Notes on the book of Exodus

by Charles Henry Mackintosh

"Now, therefore," continues the apostle, "why tempt ye God, to put a yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear?" This was strong, earnest language. God did not want "to put a yoke upon the neck" of those whose hearts had been set free by the gospel of peace. He would rather exhort them to stand fast in the liberty of Christ, and not be "entangled again with the yoke of bondage." He would not send those whom He had received to His bosom of love to be terrified by the "blackness and darkness and tempest" of "the mount that might be touched." How could we ever admit the thought that those whom God had received in grace He would rule by law? Impossible. "We believe," says Peter, "that through the GRACE OF THE LORD JESUS CHRIST we shall be saved, even as they." Both the Jews, who had received the law, and the Gentiles, who never had, were now to be "saved through grace." And not only were they to be "saved" by grace, but they were to "stand" in grace (Rom. v. 2.) and to "grow in grace" (2 Pet. iii. 18.). To teach any thing else was to "tempt God." Those Pharisees were subverting the very foundations of the Christian faith; and so are all those who seek to put believers under the law. There is no evil or error more abominable in the sight of the Lord than legalism. Hearken to the strong language—the accents of righteous indignation—which fell from the Holy Ghost in reference to those teachers of the law,—"I would they were even cut off which trouble you." (Gal. v. 12.)

And, let me ask, are the thoughts of the Holy Ghost changed in reference to this question? Has it ceased to be a tempting of God to place the yoke of legality upon a sinner's neck? Is it now in accordance with His gracious will that the law should be read out in the ears of sinners? Let my reader reply to these inquiries in the light of the fifteenth of Acts and the epistle to the Galatians. These scriptures, were there no other, are amply sufficient to prove that God never intended that the "Gentiles should hear the word" of the law. Had He so intended, He would assuredly have "made choice" of some one to proclaim it in their ears. But no; when He sent forth His "fiery law," He spoke only in one tongue; but when He proclaimed the glad tidings of salvation through the blood of the Lamb, He spoke in the language "of every nation under heaven." He spoke in such a way as that "every man in his own tongue, wherein he was born," might hear the sweet story of grace. (Acts ii. 1-11.)

Further, when He was giving forth, from Mount Sinai, the stern requirements of the covenant of works, He addressed Himself exclusively to one people. His voice was only heard within the narrow inclosures of the Jewish nation; but when, on the plains of Bethlehem, "the angel of the Lord" declared "good tidings of great joy," He added those characteristic words, "which shall be to all people." And again, when the risen Christ was sending forth His heralds of salvation, His commission ran thus: "Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature." (Mark xvi. 15; Luke ii. 10.) The mighty tide of grace, which had its source in the bosom of God, and its channel in the blood of the Lamb, was designed to rise, in the resistless energy of the Holy Ghost, far above the narrow inclosures of Israel, and roll through the length and breadth of a sin-stained world. "Every creature" must hear, "in his own tongue," the message of peace—the word of the gospel—the record of salvation through the blood of the cross.

Finally, that nothing might be lacking to prove to our poor legal hearts that Mount Sinai was not, by any means, the spot where the deep secrets of the bosom of God were told out, the Holy Ghost has said, both by the mouth of a prophet and an apostle, "How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!" (Isa. iii. 7; Rom. x. 15.) But of those who sought to be teachers of the law, the same Holy Ghost has said, "I would they were even cut off which trouble you."

Thus, then, it is obvious that the law is neither the ground of life to the sinner nor the rule of life to the Christian: Christ is both the one and the other,—He is our life and He is our rule of life. The law can only curse and slay. Christ is our life and righteousness. He became a curse for us by hanging on a tree. He went down into the place where the sinner lay—into the place of death and judgment; and having, by His death, entirely discharged all that was or could be against us, He became, in resurrection, the source of life and the ground of righteousness to all who believe in His name. Having thus life and righteousness in Him, we are called to walk not merely as the law directs, but to "walk even as He walked." It will hardly be deemed needful to assert that it is directly contrary to Christian ethics to kill, commit adultery, or steal. But were a Christian to shape his way according to these commands, or according to the entire decalogue, would he yield the rare and delicate fruits which the epistle to the Ephesians sets forth? Would the ten commandments ever cause a thief to give up stealing, and go to work that he might have to give?—would they ever transform a thief into a laborious and liberal man? Assuredly not. The law says, "Thou shalt not steal;" but does it say, Go and give to him that needeth,—Go, feed, clothe, and bless your enemy,—Go, gladden by your benevolent feelings and your beneficent acts the heart of him who only and always seeks your hurt? By no means; and yet, were I under the law, as a rule, it could only curse me and slay me. How is this, when the standard in the New Testament is so much higher? Because I am weak, and the law gives me no strength and shows me no mercy. The law demands strength from one that has none, and curses him if he cannot display it. The gospel gives strength to one that has none, and blesses him in the exhibition of it. The law proposes life as the end of obedience, the gospel gives life as the only proper ground of obedience.

But that I may not weary the reader with arguments, let me ask, If the law be indeed the rule of a believer's life, where are we to find it so presented in the New Testament? The inspired apostle evidently had no thought of its being the rule when he penned the following words: "For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth any thing nor uncircumcision, but a new creation. And as many as walk according to this rule, peace be on them, and mercy, and on the Israel of God." (Gal. vi. 15, 16.) What "rule"? The law? No; but the "new creation." Where shall we find this in Exodus xx? It speaks not a word about "new creation." On the contrary, it addresses itself to man as he is—in his natural or old-creation state—and puts him to the test as to what he is really able to do. Now if the law were the rule by which believers are to walk, why does the apostle pronounce his benediction on those who walk by another rule altogether? Why does he not say, As many as walk according to the rule of the ten commandments? Is it not evident, from this one passage, that the Church of God has a higher rule by which to walk? Unquestionably. The ten commandments, though forming, as all true Christians admit, a part of the canon of inspiration, could never be the rule of life to one who has, through infinite grace, been introduced into the new creation—one who has received new life in Christ.

But some may ask, Is not the law perfect? and if perfect, what more would you have? The law is divinely perfect. Yea, it is the very perfection of the law which causes it to curse and slay those who are not perfect if they attempt to stand before it. "The law is spiritual, but I am carnal." It is utterly impossible to form an adequate idea of the infinite perfectness and spirituality of the law. But then this perfect law coming in contact with fallen humanity—this spiritual law coming in contact with "the carnal mind," could only "work wrath" and "enmity." (Rom. iv. 15; viii. 7.) Why? Is it because the law is not perfect? No, but because it is, and man is a sinner. If man were perfect, he would carry out the law in all its spiritual perfectness; and even in the case of true believers, though they still carry about with them an evil nature, the apostle teaches us "that the righteousness of the law is fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." (Rom. viii. 4.) "He that loveth another hath fulfilled the law.... Love worketh no ill to his neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law." (Rom. xiii. 8-10.) If I love a man, I shall not steal his property—nay, I shall seek to do him all the good I can. All this is plain, and easily understood by the spiritual mind; but it leaves entirely untouched the question of the law, whether as the ground of life to a sinner or the rule of life to the believer.

If we look at the law, in its two grand divisions, it tells a man to love God with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his mind; and to love his neighbor as himself. This is the sum of the law: this, and not a tittle less, is what the law demands. But where has this demand ever been responded to by any member of Adam's fallen posterity? Where is the man who could say he loves God after such a fashion? "The carnal mind [i.e., the mind which we have by nature] is enmity against God." Man hates God and His ways. God came, in the Person of Christ, and showed Himself to man—showed Himself, not in the overwhelming brightness of His majesty, but in all the charm and sweetness of perfect grace and condescension. What was the result? Man hated God.—"Now have they both seen and hated both Me and My Father." (John xv. 24.) But, it may be said, man ought to love God. No doubt, and he deserves death and eternal perdition if he does not; but can the law produce this love in man's heart? was that its design? By no means, "for the law worketh wrath." The law finds man in a state of enmity against God; and without ever altering that state (for that was not its province), it commands him to love God with all his heart, and curses him if he does not. It was not the province of the law to alter or improve man's nature; nor yet could it impart any power to carry out its righteous demands. It said, "This do, and thou shalt live." It commanded man to love God. It did not reveal what God was to man, even in his guilt and ruin; but it told man what he ought to be toward God. This was dismal work. It was not the unfolding of the powerful attractions of the divine character, producing in man true repentance toward God, melting his icy heart, and elevating his soul in genuine affection and worship. No: it was an inflexible command to love God; and, instead of producing love, it "worked wrath;" not because God ought not to be loved, but because man was a sinner.

Again, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Can "the natural man" do this? Does he love his neighbor as himself? Is this the principle which obtains in the chambers of commerce, the exchanges, the banks, the marts, the fairs, and the markets of this world? Alas! no. Man does not love his neighbor as he loves himself. No doubt he ought; and if he were right, he would; but then he is all wrong—totally wrong—and unless he is "born again" of the Word and the Spirit of God, he cannot "see nor enter the kingdom of God." The law cannot produce this new birth. It kills "the old man," but does not, and cannot, create "the new." As an actual fact, we know that the Lord Jesus Christ embodied, in His glorious Person, both God and our neighbor, inasmuch as He was, according to the foundation-truth of the Christian religion, "God manifest in the flesh." How did man treat Him? Did he love Him with all his heart, or as himself? The very reverse. He crucified Him between two thieves, having previously preferred a murderer and a robber to that blessed One who had gone about doing good—who had come forth from the eternal dwelling-place of light and love—Himself the very living personification of that light and love—whose bosom had ever heaved with purest sympathy with human need—whose hand had ever been ready to dry the sinner's tears and alleviate his sorrows. Thus we stand and gaze upon the cross of Christ, and behold in it an unanswerable demonstration of the fact that it is not within the range of man's nature or capacity to keep the law.[10]

It is peculiarly interesting to the spiritual mind, after all that has passed before us, to observe the relative position of God and the sinner at the close of this memorable chapter. "And the Lord said unto Moses, 'Thus thou shalt say unto the children of Israel.... An altar of earth thou shalt make unto Me, and shalt sacrifice thereon thy burnt-offerings and thy peace-offerings, thy sheep and thine oxen: in all places where I record My name I will come unto thee, and I will bless thee. And if thou wilt make Me an altar of stone, thou shalt not build it of hewn stone; for if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted it. Neither shalt thou go up by steps unto Mine altar, that thy nakedness be not discovered thereon.'" (Ver. 22-26.)